Ironman St. George 70.3 Sufferfest

Ironman St. George 70.3 left me with a giant gaping wound. I always give myself a few days to let the emotions settle before writing a race report, but unfortunately the emotions are still very much the same as they were while I was riding up Snow Canyon in frustration and running the hottest, hilliest 13.1 miles of my life. And while I am happy with my 8th place AG finish, and that I DID finish, I am unhappy with where my head was at during the race, the mistakes I made, and the amount of self-criticism I imposed onto myself.

Probably more than any other season, this one has been an emotional rollercoaster for me. My own expectations after discovering some “surprising” potential have led me to set the bar high and part of me wants to see just how far I can take my fitness. Can I place well again in an Ironman? Can I get back to Kona? Can I finally break the 5-hour barrier in a 70.3 or go under 11 hours in a full? Can I?

There are days when I want it all and more. And then, naturally, there are times when I’m ready to throw in the towel. I’ve ugly cried while leaving the pool or riding my bike more times than I would like to admit, but on the flipside, I’ve never felt more joyous or alive when achieving little victories and gains along the way. I guess that’s one of the reasons I love this sport – it’s challenging and relentless, it requires discipline and accountability to oneself, and it opens doors to some serious self-discovery and personal growth.

The idea of an earlier season race (for me) sounded exciting at the beginning of the year. I had always wanted to race at St. George, so heading down there with a group of friends seemed like the perfect way to kick off the season. Finding my training spark and groove proved to be more difficult than expected this winter, and everyone has a breaking point when it comes to how many hours they can spend on the treadmill or on Zwift. Perhaps I did not have enough down time after Kona, or just had too high of expectations for myself coming off a really successful year. My greatest victories in this sport have also created my greatest downfall, which is a feeling of pressure. Pressure to perform well, to improve, to be competitive, and to contend against the best in my field.

Somewhere around the beginning/middle of March, I started to feel the pressure with each and every workout. Almost all of which was self-imposed, mind you. Pressure to kick it into high gear and hammer it for the next several weeks leading up to the race. I wanted to be able to compete in a tough field and my fitness was nowhere near where it needed to be. And so, I crammed. Like spending a few days and sleepless nights cramming for an important exam, I spent 6, sometimes 7, days a week cramming so that I could show up and compete. And just like going into an exam tired and oversaturated with material, I went into St. George fatigued, over-trained, anxious, and yes, nervous. I’ll admit, in more ways than one the mental and physical pressure that I was feeling blew up my race before it even started.

The night before the race I crawled into bed early, hoping for a decent night’s sleep ahead of our 4:45am wakeup call. I always have a difficult time sleeping the night before a race, but typically manage a few hours at minimum. On this night I never did fall asleep. As soon as my head hit the pillow and the lights went out, my heart started to race and my brain switched to overload mode. I did not sleep a wink. I tried everything – counting sheep, deep breathing, singing lullabys in my head. I even called my husband in the middle of the night. He’s usually with me the night before a race to help calm me down and talk me off of the various ledges I tend to step out onto, but was back in Bend with Axel this time. Long story short, I was having mini panic attacks and felt out of control.

Once it was an acceptable time to turn on the coffee I did, hoping the caffeine would break me out of my sleepless fog. But it did not. For the first time ever, I showed up to a race tired. There was no adrenaline (which I thrive off) and not a lot of excitement. Just fatigue and the desire to go to bed.

And then, I made a stupid race-day mistake. And when I say stupid, I mean STUPID. While I was pouring water and Gatorade into my two bike bottles, I realized I had left all of my nutrition at the house, thinking I had packed it with my bike the day before. STUPID. Not only was I tired, but I was frustrated and making stupid mistakes. For once I was excited to jump into the water in hopes that it would wake me up and snap me out of my funk.

The swim was just like every other swim, fairly uneventful, though I will say that the water at Sand Hollow this year was perfect. I was hoping to go under 40 minutes for the first time in a 70.3 race, but it didn’t happen. A predictable 41 minutes – as I always seem to do. My heart sank a little when I saw my time coming out of the water, knowing my bike legs would have to be ON, with or without my nutrition.

Swim: 41:45 T1: 2:32

When I got to my bike I struggled with cramping cold feet and it took me a moment to breathe and pull it together. The first 20 miles were very crowded and I spent a lot of time passing massive groups of people. The etiquette of the riders on the course was very frustrating – slow riders not staying to the right making it difficult to pass, people riding side by side engaged in conversation, people passing on the right. I made a comment to one rider who decided to pass another rider on the right while I was passing correctly on the left, and all I got was the middle finger. The cluster F made the bike leg very discouraging at times.

I hit my goal watts for the first 30 miles until my nutrition was gone. At that point my mind took over and I went to a dark place. I started to feel empty. Tired of the pressure. The competitor in me faded away, and in her place a tired, fatigued, and frustrated version of myself appeared. Racing has always made me happy and today I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t enjoying the day, particularly the bike, like I should have been.

And so, I pedaled comfortably up Snow Canyon and pretty much coasted down the hill into T2. I thought about taking a DNF – it would have been my first – but somehow convinced myself that I could finish the run.

I left my family. I worked hard for this race. I am not a quitter.

Yes, I know we all have feelings of quitting and throwing in the towel, but this was different. Very different. My heart just wasn’t in it, and while the athlete in me didn’t quit, the competitor in me did. It was not my day to compete. And so, in my mind, I turned the day into a training day, kept it under control on the run, and never pushed out of my comfort zone to the point of suffering that I’m used to.

Bike: 2:40 T2: 3:16

I battled my way through a brutal run. It was my number one concern going into the race and with good reason. The hills were relentless and the heat unforgiving. My legs were lifeless from the start and I knew my caloric intake was way under what it should have been off the bike. I tried to eat and drink as much as my stomach would allow – which wasn’t very much. Taking it one step at a time, I slogged forward and decided to encourage and uplift those around me. Supporting others always makes me feel better and slightly distracts from the pain of the race.

When I heard the noise roaring from the finish, I breathed a sigh of relief. I just wanted to be done and put the day behind me. I was incredibly emotional inside and disappointed with how the previous 24 hours had played out. Everyone has a bad day and today it was my turn to claim the title. It was a good reminder that there are so many moving parts to these races – physical, mental, emotional, tactical, and mechanical just to name a few – and anything can happen on any given day.

Run: 1:48:47 Finish: 5:16:24

Feeling sorry for myself but not wanting to be a dark cloud over the race, I hung out with my coach and we cheered as my friends, his other athletes, and the rest of the competitors made their way through the finish line one by one. Although I wasn’t happy with my own performance, I was incredibly happy for, and basked in the glory of my friends who had met their goals and kicked butt on a hard course. It was awesome to see.

Onward and upward, as they say. Or is it what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger? Or it’s not how many times you fall, but how many times you get back up? Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure you can [INSERTE CLICHÉ MOTIVTIONAL QUOTE HERE] and that would sum up my current mental and physical state. Disappointed. Discouraged. Motivated. Now that I’ve had a few days of down time and a chance to reflect and wrap my head around everything, I know what I need to do before Ironman Canada. Rid the pressure. Make time for recovery. Find my stride. And smile. Oh yeah, and remember my nutrition, too. 😉

Comments

I just want you to know how much of an inspiration you have been to me. I’ve been reading your blogs since 2016, or earlier maybe. I had never been a runner (thinking I literally couldn’t run) and was looking for inspiration from other women. I live in Bend as well and stumbled across your blog and was really inspired by your perspective and experiences. I ran my first full mile (without walking, gasp) that month. A couple of years later and now I’ve completed two half-marathons and am just taking up mountain biking. I’m certainly no tri-athlete, but I’m so proud of myself for doing these things that never came easily.

I was on a morning run a couple of weeks ago and passed you near Phil’s. I immediately recognized you and was so excited! The run was feeling like a struggle and I was thinking about walking until that moment. Not only did I finish the run, I smiled most of the way home. I’m a runner today and so much of that I owe to you and your writing. I’m glad you share the tough parts of sport… and balancing being a mom… and all of the things that come with life. You’re an inspiration. And I know this comment probably doesn’t make a big difference with your experience at St. George, but I hope it at least helps to hear some kind words and that there are many, many more women like me who are so impressed with you for just being you, and for being honest. And for continuing to push. That alone is something you should be so proud of. THANK YOU.

Hi Kelsie – Thank you so much for following my blog, and for taking the time to write such a wonderful and flattering comment. I am so glad that you found and continue to find inspiration through my endeavors in and out of triathlon, much the same way that I have found and will always find my own inspiration from other women’s stories and accomplishments. To know that my blog helped motivate you to get out and run in the first place, which in turn led to you becoming a runner and a half marathon finisher (2x and counting!), is exactly why I share my story – the good, the bad, and the ugly, through Glitter and Dust.

While St. George will continue to sting for a while, I really appreciate the support and it’s helpful to remind myself that while I train and race and compete largely for myself, it is also for others who can relate to or who find something positive in my endeavors.

Sorry we didn’t get a chance to say hi to each other in passing near Phil’s a few weeks ago. If you’d ever like to meet up for a run, or head out on the trails for some mountain biking, don’t hesitate to reach out. 😀

Until then, keep going strong with the running (yay for warmer weather and longer days!) and know that I draw as much inspiration from comments like yours as I hope people draw from mine.

We all have the “bad days” that we wish would never come. You overcame SO much in this race that will make you a better athlete, mother, wife, daughter, friend, etc. to those around you in the future. Life is full of lessons. Congratulations on overcoming the struggles and learning lessons for the future! xoxo

Thank you so much, Kecia! I definitely learned a lot, particularly about mindset and attitude. My goal this year is to work on my attitude and not be so critical of myself. I think we’ve all been there….

I know all the feels Kristen. Been there in every way. Sometimes mentally we just need a bit of a break. After whistler last year, I went into Chattanooga determined to just enjoy it with no expectations and no goal other than to take in the experience and have fun – the way I remember triathlon when I first started. Definitely gave me the mental boost I needed.

Hey gal! It totally sucks when bad days happen on race day, doesn’t it?! It’s happened to me before as well with marathons, and yeah…not fun. I hope the past month has given you more opportunities to rekindle your fire and ease the pressures some, too. If nothing else, you’ve now got those unpleasant experiences behind you which many would argue will make you that much tougher an athlete. Proud of you for hanging in there!!

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Hi, I’m Kristen. Thank you for stopping by. Follow me along my journey of becoming a faster runner, endurance triathlete, and world traveler. I’ll also mix in a few random musings, open up about life, and share my adventures around my hometown of Bend, Oregon.

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